The Assassin AU
by Like A Dove
Summary: Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation does not consider himself a murderer. He is a protector. Written for Zutara Month 2014.
1. Hidden

**A/N:** I suppose this fic is what happens when I'm shut indoors for two and a half days with nothing but Assassin's Creed 2 and Skrillex. Atlanta weather be cray cray. I'm also super happy that the very first prompt for Zutara month happened to fit it. Hope everyone enjoys my first attempt at coming off my writing hiatus. :)

* * *

Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation does not consider himself a murderer. Or a killer. Or a demon, like the people have nicknamed him.

He is a protector. A guardian. He makes sure his city is kept in shape, for the good of his people. For the good of his throne and his father's name.

Long live the Fire Lord.

Tonight he stalks a high fire priest who has been linked to child enslavement. It's quite easy for Zuko to slip silently into the top floor of the brothel, where women pretend to be ladies and too rich men show off their true colors.

The prostitute the priest is laughing with dances out the door, claiming to be right back with their drinks.

When she returns moments later the priest is sporting a bright, dripping red smile. By the time she screams out "Demon!" Zuko is too far away to even hear her.

* * *

The first time he goes to kill her it is raining and Zuko couldn't be in a more piss poor mood. He eases into her room, silent as can be, blade steady in his hand, ready to take down the estranged water bender who has been hiding fugitives and spreading anti-Fire Nation propaganda. She is stupid for coming into his city, into his domain, he thinks. She might as well have signed her own death certificate.

When he hears splashing sounds, he stills. At first he assumes she's bending, and a part of him is curious, for he has never seen actual waterbending in person before, and watching her bend for a brief moment is a secret he would never have to breathe to anyone—

And then he realizes she's bathing.

Good, she is vulnerable. Wait.

Bad, she is surrounded in her element.

Frowning, he moves closer, figuring that if he springs on her fast enough then he'll at least have the element of surprise. He peers around the corner and sees a slip of wet skin and impossibly long hair that clings to a bare back. He swallows.

She stands, and his eyes glue themselves to the slope of her rump. In a flash she turns and, naked, flings three long, deadly icicles in his direction. He does not move his head in time, and three burning cuts sear themselves into his cheek.

He is out her window in a blink, but not fast enough to escape her laughter.

* * *

The second time he tries to kill her they are in public. She moves about the crowded marketplace slowly, picking up exotic fruit after exotic fruit and sniffing them, tasting them, before she buys bushels of them from their sellers. Zuko wonders where she is procuring all that coin. He doesn't focus on the way her hair curls around her neck, doesn't focus on how long her legs are, doesn't focus on the sharp intelligence of her eyes.

He watches her as she makes her way back to her small apartment hidden in the city, watches as she fans herself, her forehead slick with sweat.

He flings his blade, his path clear and perfect. But she turns her head just too soon. The knife slices through some tendrils of her hair and she freezes, watching her own locks fall to the ground. And normally Zuko would be throwing another knife, and normally his target would be running for their lives.

But the water bender casually bites into a mango and looks straight at him, eyes finding his with ease, despite his hiding place.

He disappears before he can take note of how blue her eyes really are.

* * *

By the third time he has grown slightly frustrated with his main target, but no less determined. He acquires a potent poison from the finest apothecary he knows. He stares as she sits down for her dinner, alone. Then she swears and gets back up, and leaves the room. Zuko seizes the opportunity and slips the poison into the white wine she always drinks every evening.

The poison will work quickly. She will be dead seconds after she consumes it. She comes back into the room, sits back down, and picks up her glass of wine.

Zuko goes as still as he possibly can.

And then the waterbender smirks. With a practiced and talented hand, she pulls the wine from its goblet and separates it from the poison. She puts the wine back and, while taking a hearty sip, flicks the poison onto Zuko's shoe.

He has no idea how she even sees him.

* * *

The forth attempt calls for drastic measures. He surges into her room one night, covered in shadows, forcing himself not to wonder as to why she never bars her doors, never takes any measures in protecting her home, and raises his dual swords high. He will slice her open efficiently this time.

Except somehow she is, as always, prepared. She freezes him to the wall in an instant, only leaving one hole for him to breathe through.

And he is shocked that she doesn't kill him herself.

"You know, you and I would make a good team," she says, and although her voice is muffled it is pure and lovely and _why_ has he never stuck around long enough to hear her voice before?

It doesn't take him long to free himself with his firebending, but when he does she is gone, leaving him alone in her own home, just like he knew she would. He should ransack it, burn it to the ground, punish her for being annoying and fleeting and too smart for him.

But he doesn't.

* * *

The fifth attempt is unplanned.

She shows up at one of his father's many parties, dressed in red lace and a golden mask, but Zuko instantly knows who she is.

And he thinks that now is the time, if only he can lure her away from the main ballroom and make short work of her in a nearby balcony, or perhaps his bedroom.

The idea of the water bender being in close proximity to his bed makes him swallow.

She is a talented dancer, he notices, with shapely hips and graceful arms and balanced feet. He could never dance like that. And it is as if she's drawn to him, despite his lack of a mask, despite his scarred face and severe frown. She eases him onto the dance floor and he allows himself to be eased. If she likes him enough, perhaps she'll follow him out of here, and his mission will finally be completed.

It works. She consumes expensive wine and rich chocolate and so does he, and soon he is forcing himself to concentrate on how to walk, on how her arm feels looped through his, of how the hot skin of her bare stomach is pressing against him.

His room is not far, and they make it there in one piece. When the door is closed, when it is truly just the two of them, her smile slips into a smirk and she pulls off his shirt and then his shoes. And he lets her.

She sighs. "Don't you want to know the name of the woman you're trying to kill, demon?" She licks and kisses along his neck and he almost staggers.

"It's Katara," she informs him, moving out of arm's reach and toward his dresser. She easily finds his hidden blade and inspects it curiously. And then she hides it in her clothes and asks if he can see it on her.

He can't.

"We'll make a good team," she echoes, sitting on the edge of his bed, letting glimpses of bare leg move into his sight. "Your agenda barely needs any editing." And she smiles, and it is a beautiful smile.

Zuko cannot kill her.

He thinks she might have killed him long ago anyway.


	2. Fight

**A/N:** Here is the smutty sequel, and second installment, in my Assassin AU. Expect two more installments for this AU. Hope everyone enjoys. ;)

* * *

Katara has blood splattered against her cheek.

Zuko can barely focus on the task at hand. The waterbender has buried a long, sharp, and deadly icicle into the neck of a known crime lord. They can hear the footsteps of his partners in the business sprinting up the stairs. Zuko glances at Katara and she nods, and they're both on the roof and darting away before the icicle can even melt.

She was right. They make an excellent team.

* * *

They're not in their right minds.

They haven't had anything to drink. They haven't smoked. And yet Zuko's mind couldn't be more clouded. His eyes keep going to Katara's neck, and hers to his lips.

She notices him watching her movements, notices how he'll shift closer and closer to her as the night goes on, notices how he'll let his shoulder lean against hers for longer then is necessary.

She smiles and runs her lovely finger along her bottom lip, nibbling her nail. The corner of her mouth lifts into a smirk and he cannot get her into his bedroom fast enough.

They haven't fucked yet.

He's not sure why. Every time he touches himself lately all he can think about is her—her breasts, her hips, her ass, the way she tilts her head back in pleasure when she's dancing. He thinks about the demure little noises she might make while he's thrusting inside of her, thinks about how she'll cry out when he makes her come.

Oh, he bets he could make her scream. All he needs is the opportunity to.

And it looks as if said opportunity will come tonight.

They usually part ways when they reach her home in the inner city. But tonight…tonight she follows him right back to the palace. And he lets her. _Of course_ he lets her, he even turns back when they reach the balcony to his room in order to give her a leg up. Not that she needs his help of, course.

But he'd do about anything for a great look at her backside these days.

And finally she and his bed are in the same vicinity again. Katara has a lusty look in her eyes, and Zuko doesn't care about being gentlemanly. He cups her smooth cheek and leans in to kiss her, all the while tracing his other hand around the side of her breast.

She moves out of his reach right before his mouth touches hers. "No kissing," she instructs, and there is a glint in her eye that is making him hard. "Show me what else you can do with your tongue."

There's a challenge in her voice, and he raises an eyebrow. But he accepts her challenge and in a moment one hand is on her waist and the other is behind her head. He licks her neck, finds her ear with his mouth, works the soft lobe between his teeth before tracing the shell with his tongue. Women seem to have a thing about their necks and their ears. He expects her to melt in his arms. She does not.

She pulls away slowly, right before he's about to reach for the hem of her shirt, a smile on her face. Except her smiles are never real smiles, but smirks. They're mockery smiles, as if she's always one step ahead of him.

"Very good," she compliments. "Now would you like to see what I can do with mine?"

And he thinks he might come before she even touches him. Her hands are warm, and then his pants are around his knees. He hadn't even realized how hard he was.

She stands back up, leans forward, and takes his bottom lip between her teeth. It is not a kiss, just like she promised. A moment later Zuko's cock is in her hand and he lets out a long breath, feels himself jump against her palm.

The waterbender is quick—too quick for him, sometimes. The tip of him is touching the back of her throat before he can even blink, and for moments after all he's aware of are the red walls of his room and the warm, gentle pleasure slowly building and sinking between his hipbones. He puts a hand on her head and stops her soon enough.

Coming in her mouth would be nice. But he hasn't been inside of her yet.

Katara stands after stripping his pants off the rest of the way. He can see the outline of her nipples between her thin black shirt. He reaches to take it off, but she slaps his hand away. Zuko frowns, takes a step back, and gestures to his naked lower half pointedly.

And she sighs, conceding. But she doesn't let him take it off. She moves away, turns around, and slowly peels her shirt off of her body. And soon what is before him is a naked back and an eyeful of pure, unblemished dark skin. He swallows. She turns around slowly, and he knows that she's being suspenseful on purpose.

Her tits are incredible. He's cupping them in his hands soon enough, and she leans her head back in pleasure, just like he imagined that she might. He bends down, sucks a nipple into his mouth and listens out for the soft whimpers, feels for the gentle shudders. Neither come, and when he glances up he sees Katara with her blue eyes squeezed shut, mouth slightly open, hand reaching out and grasping the bedpost. She's slightly different then the Katara he imagined while pleasing herself. But this Katara is better. This Katara is real.

In his imagination he had always thought that she would be down for lots of foreplay, for being touched slowly and rubbed against and sucked on. This Katara straightens up and opens her eyes, and when she peers down at him he is almost afraid. Almost.

And then she smiles, and it is that mocking smile.

She shoves him onto his own bed and he watches carefully as her breasts move with her body as she climbs in behind him. She takes her own pants off and all but crawls under him, legs spread, eyes sparking, hair mused.

He sinks inside with a slick ease that's so pleasurable it's almost painful.

He starts out slow, thinking that he'll build everything up, but she smacks his ass hard, and lets out a noise of disapproval.

So he fucks her.

And she doesn't cry out; she purrs. And when he hits a certain spot her long nails scrape relentlessly down her back, making him shiver and shake above her. When her legs begin to squeeze against his hips he gasps into her neck and pushes into her harder then before.

She makes little noises each time he slams into her, but they're not demure. They're almost primal. And when he takes a moment to glance into her face he sees that her mouth is open wide, that her eyes look unfocused. He slows down his pace and she lets out a long, low whine. When he moves faster again he sees that smirk return, if only for a brief moment.

His orgasm come onto him sharply and absolutely unexpectedly. His hips buck into her and he feels his cock begin to twitch inside her in the most excruciatingly wonderful way. His mind goes entirely blank for a long, amazing moment, and the seconds are long before he can hear and see and feel something that's not just pleasure again.

Katara's naked chest is heaving and she's still pushing her body against his, and he knows that she wasn't quite there yet.

He's about to apologize, because while this has happened to him before with others, seeing Katara come would be an image that he would keep seared in his mind forever.

And then she is grabbing his head and shoving him down, and it takes him but an instant to get the message.

Her sex tastes like everything he's ever wanted but didn't know he needed. He licks and works his tongue around the edges of her clit, eases two of his fingers inside of her, feels his own orgasm coat against them. It takes but moments until she's quivering around his fingers, and with one last suck against her softest, most sensitive skin the quivering becomes hard, relentless clenching.

Katara comes loudly. The scream he had imagined is more of a moan, but Zuko knows that that sound alone is enough to get him half hard in the future.

It takes her a few moments to come down from her high, and when she does their eyes meet over the expanse of her upper body and she laughs, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. Zuko thinks about sending a servant for wine and chocolate, but the waterbender is fast asleep but minutes later.

He lays down next to her, careful to leave some space between them.

This particular battle is over, They've both won.


End file.
